I feel like flying
Another day
Denise is my name. I'm 18 years old, tall and skinny - but what difference does my look make? People think I'm nothing special, but they don't know me. Nobody knows me. I don't have any friends, because I don't believe in them. Can you tell me the definition of a friend?
Friend is a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
Right...I don't need nobody to be attached onto me. I feel like I'm the only one that can understand what's going on in my head and reasons of my actions. Well not always...Sometimes I act really weird and I don't know what's going on in my head.
Yesterday I woke up and I didn't feel like going to school. Every step that I make; I am followed by hundreds of judgmental eyes, just waiting to start their cheap talk about my existence. People should learn how to mind their own business and leave me alone. Plus that damned school Psychiatrist who keeps bugging me about my emotional health. She thinks I should be stabilized now because my Parents are back together and that my father's company became successful and we're finally wealthy, but she's so wrong...
I don't want to look at all of them. Not today. Today's a special, special day. After a long time, I feel something that's really close to happiness. Somehow I know that's the only right thing to do; to go to nature and enjoy her sweet silence. I grabbed my purse filled of my accessories and I went to a kitchen to get myself an apple.
I didn't expect my Mother to go there; she hardly goes into that place of house. I can't remember the last time she made a meal for me. Even though our servant knows how to make any French, Italian or Indian specialty- perfectly delicious, I feel that this is not it. I'd prefer boiled eggs made with love by my Mum. But dream on, Denise. Anyway, I said hi.
"Good morning," she mumbled. She was using her laptop, I wonder: how did she manage to hear me? She hasn't even noticed that I'm not wearing my school uniform and school bag.
I took that apple, where are my eggs? I thought again and I went out.
I walked without any thoughts and then I came to the forest. I love it more than: my Family, myself or anything. It gives me the feeling of safety and that I'm always welcome. So, I lay down on the grass and absorbed sunbeams that were quietly playing with the morning haze. I closed my eyes and I knew that this is it; that I'm happy. Suddenly I started getting things out of my handbag. First a plastic bag, then lighter, little Ziggy papers and cigarettes; an enjoyable routine. I took my time and I rolled it, I then slowly inhaled the smoke I felt the beating joy, I smiled.
"Haha! Got you! I can have fun, too!" I was screaming on the inside. Fuck the Mum, fuck the psychiatrist and everyone.
I can fly.
Friend is a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
Right...I don't need nobody to be attached onto me. I feel like I'm the only one that can understand what's going on in my head and reasons of my actions. Well not always...Sometimes I act really weird and I don't know what's going on in my head.
Yesterday I woke up and I didn't feel like going to school. Every step that I make; I am followed by hundreds of judgmental eyes, just waiting to start their cheap talk about my existence. People should learn how to mind their own business and leave me alone. Plus that damned school Psychiatrist who keeps bugging me about my emotional health. She thinks I should be stabilized now because my Parents are back together and that my father's company became successful and we're finally wealthy, but she's so wrong...
I don't want to look at all of them. Not today. Today's a special, special day. After a long time, I feel something that's really close to happiness. Somehow I know that's the only right thing to do; to go to nature and enjoy her sweet silence. I grabbed my purse filled of my accessories and I went to a kitchen to get myself an apple.
I didn't expect my Mother to go there; she hardly goes into that place of house. I can't remember the last time she made a meal for me. Even though our servant knows how to make any French, Italian or Indian specialty- perfectly delicious, I feel that this is not it. I'd prefer boiled eggs made with love by my Mum. But dream on, Denise. Anyway, I said hi.
"Good morning," she mumbled. She was using her laptop, I wonder: how did she manage to hear me? She hasn't even noticed that I'm not wearing my school uniform and school bag.
I took that apple, where are my eggs? I thought again and I went out.
I walked without any thoughts and then I came to the forest. I love it more than: my Family, myself or anything. It gives me the feeling of safety and that I'm always welcome. So, I lay down on the grass and absorbed sunbeams that were quietly playing with the morning haze. I closed my eyes and I knew that this is it; that I'm happy. Suddenly I started getting things out of my handbag. First a plastic bag, then lighter, little Ziggy papers and cigarettes; an enjoyable routine. I took my time and I rolled it, I then slowly inhaled the smoke I felt the beating joy, I smiled.
"Haha! Got you! I can have fun, too!" I was screaming on the inside. Fuck the Mum, fuck the psychiatrist and everyone.
I can fly.